


the sturdy kind that doesn't mind the snow

by Seascribe



Category: due South
Genre: Christmas, F/M, M/M, Post-Call of the Wild, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 10:45:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/pseuds/Seascribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray and Christmas trees through the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sturdy kind that doesn't mind the snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luzula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzula/gifts).



> Inspired by the Stan Rogers song First Christmas, in particular the refrain about the silver star. But it's happy, I swear! Well, three quarters of it are happy. Written for Luzula's Christmas gift-fic prompt which asked for something inspired by a Stan Rogers song. The title is from the carol It's Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas.

1.  
When Ray was a kid, they had one of those plastic Christmas trees, the kind that came in a box and had wires in the branches that you had to sort of fluff up every year so it didn't just look sad and misshapen. He and his brother always wanted a real tree, but Mom hated the way the needles got everywhere and said it was a fire hazard besides. 

Stella's family though, you'd better believe they had a real tree. Two of them, even, one for each floor, covered in fancy lights shaped like stars and little glass ornaments hand-painted in Italy or something. There were hand-painted ornaments on the Kowalski Christmas tree too, but they were made out of popsicle sticks and it was Ray and Brian who had painted them, back in kindergarten.

"I think it's sweet," Stella said once. "Mom never put any of my arts and crafts on our tree." 

"You want to make something to put on ours?" Ray offered. "Mom would love it." Jeez, could he be any more of a sap and a dumbass? Of course his girlfriend didn't want to make some glitter and popsicle stick ornament for their stupid fake Christmas tree. 

But Stella grinned, her real, honest million-dollar-grin, and they spent the rest of the afternoon making stars and snowflakes, getting totally covered in glitter and paint, and when he hung Stella's ornaments on the tree next to his own, Ray's face hurt from smiling.

2.  
When Ray and Stella finally got a place of their own, it didn't matter how low the ceilings were or how there was barely room in the den for the sofa and Ray's bike, Ray wanted them to have a real tree for their first Christmas together. Stella tried to talk him out of it, saying she didn't see what the big deal was, and wasn't the little tabletop one she had from her dorm good enough, and how were they going to get it up the stairs anyway, but Ray was determined. 

It took Ray and two of the neighbours to get the thing into the apartment, and then Ray had to whack half a foot off the top of it so it wouldn't smoosh up against the ceiling. They didn't have enough ornaments to really make it look good, just those old popsicle stick stars that had lost most of their glitter by now and some cheap bobbles from the discount store. But the lights were bright and twinkly, and Stella had found a nice-looking silver star for the top. 

They almost knocked the whole thing over when Ray lifted her up to put the star on. It kept tilting crookedly, and Stella laughed until Ray had to stagger over to the couch and put her down before he dropped her. 

"It's perfect," he said, giving her a kiss.

"The best," Stella agreed, and pulled him down onto the couch with her.

3.  
Ray didn't put up a tree the Christmas after the divorce. Didn't have anything to put on it, didn't have anybody to decorate it with, nobody to buy gifts for to put under it. Just the turtle, and it wasn't like he'd know the difference. 

"Merry fucking Christmas," Ray told the turtle, dumping an extra couple of crickets and a strawberry into the tank. The turtle just blinked at him. 

Ray's gift to himself was a bottle of Laphroaig.

He woke up on the couch, feeling like someone had packed his head with broken glass and swished a dirty gym sock around in his mouth. The phone was on the floor, making that obnoxious buzzing noise that happened if you stayed on the line too long after the other person hung up. Ray remembered exactly one thing from after he'd opened the bottle of scotch. Stella, sighing staticky into the phone and saying, "Goodnight, Ray. Merry Christmas." 

Shit. Shit shit shit. Ray stumbled to the bathroom, gagging.

4.  
Ray is not the slightest bit surprised when Fraser brandishes a couple of axes and suggests that they go chop down their own Christmas tree for the cabin. He's also prepared for it when Fraser drags him ten miles afield in search of the perfect tree. Ray gets it. This is Fraser's first real Christmas tree--not a sea-buckthorn bush or something frilly in the Consulate foyer--and that kind of thing matters. So Ray shoulders his axe and gives his opinion on this one's spread or that one's needle density and waits for Fraser to find his tree. And, as Fraser loves to point out, they're well below the treeline here, which means there are plenty to choose from. 

"What do you think about this one, Ray?" Fraser says, pointing to a nice conical little tree that to Ray looks just about identical to the last thirty trees they passed. 

"Looks great, Fraser. Nice and, uh, symmetrical. No bald spots. A real winner." Fraser nods thoughtfully. 

"I agree. Dief?" The wolf's not dumb--he yips enthusiastic agreement. "Very well then," Fraser says. "Shall we?" 

Ray's never chopped down a tree before, even a little one like this, and he's kind of worried he's going to accidentally cut off his own foot or something. But Fraser knows what he's doing, and the tree topples over neat as you please with no loss of limbs or grievous bodily harm inflicted on anyone. 

They don't have much in the way of Christmas tree decorations, no lights or ornaments or star for the top. But Ray brought his chili pepper lights with him when he came up here, hung them around the turtle's tank so he'd feel more at home. 

"You don't mind if we borrow 'em for the tree, do you buddy?" Ray asks, and the turtle blinks, which Ray figures is Turtle for "Go right ahead." He pops some popcorn and shows Fraser how to string it into garlands, and in the end the tree looks pretty damn good. 

Fraser's smiling that so-happy-I-broke-something-in-my-face smile, and Ray's pretty sure he's sporting one to match it. Outside, it's negative god knows how many degrees, and the sun's not going to rise for another two weeks, but that doesn't matter, because in here the fire is roaring and Fraser is smiling and when he kisses Ray, he tastes like popcorn and hot chocolate and _home_.


End file.
